


Perhaps

by Tarlan



Category: Le sang du chasseur | Blood of the Hunter (1995)
Genre: Gen, Mental Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-26
Updated: 2006-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 16:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Birthdays were never easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perhaps

Birthdays were never easy, not when you had a father who wished that you had never been born.

Philip sighed as he watched his half brother playing his fiddle to the excited, clapping crowd who had begged his brother to play for them. Yan Thoreau had no idea that he even had a brother, let alone one that wished him dead. Perhaps if Yan had never been born then their father might have found a little love in his heart for him. Perhaps those violent hands would have laid caresses rather than blows upon his flesh, and gentle words of love might have fallen instead of vile insinuations that he was grossly inferior to his unknowing brother.

Philip had spent his entire life in his brother's shadow. Never good enough, never wanted, never loved... but all of that would change. Perhaps he could not erase the terrible years of misery, where each birthday brought fresh pain and humiliation as his father blamed his very existence for the loss of his first love - Yan's mother but, perhaps he could ease the years lying ahead. Perhaps next year he would be able to stand proud and tall on his birthday. Perhaps next year he would be loved.

On his next birthday, Philip killed his Charles Thornton, ending years of physical and mental abuse at his father's hand. As he stood above the corpse, he felt exhilarated, free, until he happened to glance across the desk top and see the letter written in his father's hand, addressed to Yan Thoreau. With trembling fingers he picked up the vellum, his heart hardening with each word of love caressing the sheet - for his brother - and never for him.

Bitterness filled him and a single tear tracked down his face. With a deep, shuddering breath, he held the letter above the oil lamp and watched it burn, gazing into the yellow flame as if it could provide the answers he sought so desperately. The emptiness in his soul filled with hatred. Tomorrow he would head into Metis country because he knew that he would never be free of his devil father until he had put an end to the last of his spawn - Yan Thoreau.

THE END


End file.
